By: Jeremy Dunn Monday August 23, 2010

I look a little like I got punched in the eye. Or a least that my eyes were swollen and puffy and not the kind that could be erased from a nights sleep. A good nights sleep maybe, but that is hard to find these days.

These were some my first thoughts last Sunday morning as I surveyed the damage. Well, that is not entirely true, as I started assessing damage as soon as one eye opened, before maybe. My legs were giving off heat and I needed not look at them to ascertain that fact. They were swollen and tender to the touch. I looked at my alarm clock and almost laughed out loud, which was was I was reminded of the pain in the general abs region. Why did my abs hurt so much?

One of the best part about a Gentlemen’s anything (Or Stage Race) is the ability to call it off. You must do so with a wink and nod, a laugh and a clink of glasses, (or in my case a Sunday brunch with Kyle ) but it can be done. Important as anything else in terms of “rules of the road” is to know when to say enough is enough. You see, in the realm of amateur bike racing the most important rule is to not let the graveness – the seriousness – of any real racing situation creep into your realm of accountability. Does that make sense? Of course it does, or it should because otherwise there is a good chance that you are doing something wrong. Very wrong. Especially if you do not think of fun and bike racing as that hand-in-hand love bird couple that makes you sort of gag a little bit.

I have been getting the sense lately that people take this whole bike racing thing really seriously. Sure, the Pro’s do, as well they should, but I also get the impression that people on the amateur level are taking it just as seriously. They have the heart rate monitors and the tapped in rear wheels and the super coaches and these fantastical looking plastic green bars that they eat to keep them fueled until the next ding of their fuel injection monitor goes off on their handlebars. We, as competitive fun gentlemanly (and womanly) racers should have no need for these things.

No need for a heart rate monitor or a temperature gauge to tell me that I was A) overheating and B) trying to contain my beating heart from bursting out of my jersey this past weekend. The Rapha Gentlemen’s Race went off without a hitch. Juuust kidding. That is usually what I say, sort of a default “A-OK” phrase. Something that we can say to each other when we gather around for coffee on a Monday morning after the race.

“You know what, it was so much fun, the thing went off without a hitch…”

The thing was that it got hot, and people got flats. I think that is the most concise way to describe the carnage that happened out on the course. Well, maybe that and a few timid souls coming to grips with gravel and how exactly is the best way to ride a bicycle on it. (Big Ring and pedal pedal pedal). But that is also besides the point.

Steven Hunter and I have a new roommate. Her name is Jennifer. This is her (above) sitting on the back of a van getting psyched to ride her bike. It worked too. Jennifer and her team “won” the 2010 Rapha Gentlemen’s Race. So, good job new roommie and new roomies team Veloforma Racing. Check them out. They’re fast as hell. You have probably heard of them already, and how could you miss them with those kits?

Ok, so, traveling with a good crew is always the way to go. The handy little guide that came from a book called From Father to Son is pretty much my go to at this point. Even used a bit of it in the write up for the East Coast version of the race. But, with that being said, the Rapha Continental crew is and has been ridden with enough to ensure that there is nothing lacking in that department. In case you are wondering, I do not refer to it religiously or anything weird like that, just kind of keep it around for general perusing…

So, this was the crew:

Ryan Thomson – aka Evil Ryan. He is not that Evil, no matter how much he tries. Wicked at heart? Not a chance, pure softy. And with that mustache? Even the ladies think so too. Burt Reynolds throwback, and always a good riding partner. He knows how to repair the bikes when they start to sag and he knows how to talk people through the rough spots. Even if he gets a little cranky near the end of the day. But, I guess that is why you call him evil, he’s not bad, not at all, just evil.

Joe Staples – That would be Mr. Joe Staples to you. Good on the gravel, good on the climbs. Definitely good for the humor. And when we are all tapped, to the limit, “out of our heads” so to speak, this is when he starts to take over and entertain us as to what it takes to entertain the entertainment industry. Cue invisible monkey.

Greg Johnson – aka Crusher Johnson (not really his nickname, but it works for now). The thing about this guy is that I have never seen him falter. Never crack, never say “too much.” And when we got to the climbs, the Otto Miller’s and Dixie Canyon’s and the what-have-you’s he just rides away from everyone. Around the cracked souls standing on the side of the road. And he’s gone. But, then you get to the top of the climb and he’s there grinning like the village idiot, all smiles and hugs and hi-fives that we have actually made it to the top.

Dan Sharp – Sure, he does not have a Continental profile, but let it stand in the record books that this was the man that defined the photographic style of the Continental. And you know what else? He is also a crusher, one of these rare birds that combines aesthetic with crushability. Wait, what? Dan has the unique ability to empty the entire contents of his pockets onto the roadside at every stop. This makes a man like me nervous because my inkling is short stops, keep moving, but it is good for me to have someone that can keep that feeling grounded. He also got the most flats on the day, which, as it turns out, in 105 degree heat, is a real bummer. But his attitude is one that keeps everyone from slashing each others throats and a laugh is never far behind.

Ira Ryan – Have not gotten to do too much riding with Ira this year. Last year it was one for the record books. Early morning Moka Pots (the one from the last cover) and oatmeal propelled us on towards rides I had never seen before. Saltzman’s and Skyline’s intermingled with loops on Sauvies. There must have been some that didn’t start with an “s.” Oh yeah, there was that time we went up through Vernonia. One of my now favorite rides. Ira is True Blue with the type of riding that we did a couple weeks ago. Especially if you flat 20 feet before the last checkpoint and realize that your hands will barely function. That is precisely when Ira will step in and use a pump to fill your tire with air in 2.3 seconds. So, thanks for that.

And with that crew we slayed the “Race.” The six of us ventured out from a winery in the middle of God knows where to pool our sweat into a mixture that will forever be drank by virgins and used by Male Cycling Models (like the Assos guy) to attract said Virgins. It is a complicated process, and not one that I can really go into here. But it does involve the wringing of Rapha Lightweight Jerseys together so that the sweet sweet sweat can mix into one.

“We stayed together the whole race, why is that so hard?” This was a topic of conversation for a long time, as we pondered people riding on ahead, or trailing behind looking around bleary eyed for their teams…

I guess if you call it a “ride” no one will show up. So, call it a “race” and someone has to win.

Hi-Fives and Hugs we won.
(I mean that in the metaphorical sense, just so you know.)

By: Jeremy Dunn Monday August 16, 2010

What is a stage race? As many events as you can do packed into a small period of time? That is the version that I am the most familiar with. We, as working individuals – read amateurs – do not have the time to make something stretch for days, or weeks. We will leave that to the PRO’s.

One year when I did the Fitchburg Stage Race (Cyfac Racing) we reached the final stage, the Crit, with our man Sears in the points jersey. He was a sprinter, a scrapper, and we were about to find out just how much. I remember going into the last corner and seeing him taking it a little hot. This was about half way through the race mind you. I did not have to look all the way at him to know that he was going down. The audible sound of plastic scraping on concrete was enough to fill in the details. You know the feeling, when your sphincter muscles all contract so fast that you are afraid your ass swallowed your saddle? (I borrowed that one from Steven Hunter). Even so, you squint your eyes to bring back in focus what is really happening in front of you, not behind you. I remember this moment of being incredibly bummed and incredibly relieved at the same time.

We were supposed to be Mr. Sears’ leadout train sure. That much was a given, but the other duty that us and the rest of the team were supposed to do was make sure that he won every intermediate sprint as well. And that meant that we were to switch off getting that compact little man to the front of the race so he could do his job. Which was sprint his face off. So when he goes down four or so laps before the next intermediate sprint I am left without a job to do, and “that is just fine for me” I think as I wriggle myself comfortably back into the pack. And that is when I hear it.

“Hey J, lets do this.” My mind says excuse me and my mouth says nothing as I risk a glimpse to who is next to me, because, fuck me if it does not sound just like Jason Sears. I have absolutely no idea how this has happened, but, he is right, we need to do this and we need to do it now. And somehow, despite my bewildered state I drag Jason from about half way through a pack of three’s straight to front, narrowly missing the same turn that moments earlier I saw him go down. Or at least I think I saw him go down. He wins that sprint, and the next. Which is a little unfathomable to me, but now that I am seeing a little more clearly I think to myself that he just might pull this off….

That is what I think about when I think about Stage Racing. That, or the time that Pete Rubi and I went up to somewhere in the middle of no where New York to do a two-day three-stage race. My girlfriend drove as we kept our legs elevated, or slept off hangovers on the fold down cots mounted to the back of the rickety van we were driving. Summertime after all. These are good memories of Stage Racing. Here are other things that are interesting:

1) Learning to use a TT bike about ten minutes before the start of the Workingman Stage Race (it was Matt Decanio’s Red/White/Blue painted Hot Tubes). I almost crashed about four times.

2) Losing weight it was so hot in upstate NY. Gaining it back with cider donuts.

3) Run in with a self professed “Cop of these Parts.”

4) Finding a coinciding state crossing bike tour – they all have breakfast prepared for them in the mornings. Who knew? And when we rode off in the other direction. They were none the wiser.

5) The more tired you get, the better the next stage will be. It really is always the first one that is the worst. We are talking about nerves here.

6) No sex during. Just kidding I break that rule as often as possible (with myself.) And I have not done a stage race in years, which could run parallel with the sex situ.

So, what is a Gentlemen’s Stage Race? Simply put, just an agreement among friends to see who can outlast the others. The Rapha Gentlemen’s Race is happening this weekend and as I reviewed the course, and looked over the days that fell before and after the Gent’s Race, as we have come to call it, I noticed something interesting. On the Friday before the race there is what, in some circles might be known as a “Criterium,” although for the sake of brevity we will just call it a “Crit.” And then, to make matters worse, or better, or at least tempt fate a little bit there was another event on the far side of the Gent’s Race and this one is indeed the event known as Contra la Montra, the race against the clock, a “Time Trial” or “TT” if you will. Except this one is a little special as it is a six mile UPHILL time trial.

When I took a step back and looked at the weekend it looked a bit like this.

Crit (Downtown Park Blocks Crit)
Road Race (Rapha Gentlemen’s Race)
Time Trial. (Up Mt. Hood).

Seems easy enough? But I am sure that it will not be. I have been talking this up to almost everyone that will listen. And I like to talk, so you can imagine how that goes. Some people have said that they were crazy enough to try it with me (Patrick Wilder?) but I have not heard from him since his initial “Oh, let’s race for Pink Slips” rant. I thought he actually meant a women’s undergarment made of a really light red colored material. Not in the old fashioned drag racing way, but, apparently he meant nothing at all, because I have yet to hear back from him.

And now that you mention it a Stage Race should have more than just three stages, that sounds more like a Stage Rest than a Race. So, I figured that a little beefing up would be in order. This should also serve as your funtimes-party-bike-racing-action-schedule for the weekend. It might look something like this. And it definitely would not have anything to do with “gentlemen” if it did not also involve some “Some Drinking.”

Friday
12:30 Rapha Office Ride
18:30 Downtown Park Blocks Crit
AFTER – Some Drinking

Saturday
08:30 Rapha Gentlemen’s Race
15:00 Hotdog Serving with Cobra Dogs in Chris King Parking Lot
20:00 Rebecca Gates & The Consortium
20:30 – Some Drinking

Sunday

08:00 OBRA Hillclimb Championship (this one will hurt I think).
09:00 SOME SLEEPING
11:00 Some drinking.

I think the key will be to just not let yourself get Psy-Opsed out there. But then is that not the key to everything? To life? To love? To Bike racing happiness? PS – can you tell that I am a little geeked out about my bike? Just wait till you see the new bars on there. Whoo boy.

By: Jeremy Dunn Thursday August 5, 2010

I keep forgetting. But, I usually do that. This time I keep forgetting to say that there are only a few short days left to see the Bespoke Show at the Museum of Art and Design (MAD) at Columbus Circle, in New York City. Yes, that New York City. August 15th is the final day for the show. But, while we are on the subject of handmade bikes, something that we are usually on here, there is another event we should mention quickly. If you are going to be heading over to the MAD show, you should stop by the Cycle Club to see the Richard Sachs Continental bike for the month of August (well, except for when I steal it away to ride D2R2). And tomorrow night there is a chance to meet some of the builders themselves, such as the famed Chris Igleheart.

Moving back to the MAD. Recently I saw the exhibit. Well, it was not that recently, it was actually the same day that I came back from viewing the Velodrome in little old Emmaus, PA (the biggest little bike town in American – is what I would like to call it from here on out [BLBTNA.)) I rode the bus back the next morning after seeing the sights and drinking the beers with Keith P. and TruBS. And when I got off the the bus I figured that I was close enough to trek over to the MAD from and check out what all the hubbub was all about.

So, I booked it uptown – no idea if this is actually uptown , but I’m going to go for it, you know? I walked the few blocks to the museum, but the stifling heat that is NYC made it seem twice as hot as it really is. Which made it 400 degrees walking through that tunnel of hi-rise buildings. Anyway, little country me did it, just like that. I followed the superphone directions to that place and before I knew it I was there.

The space itself is great. Nice and white and large enough to make you go: “How the shit do they do this in New York City?” It really is quite remarkable. The only thing is this: No Photographs.

Come on people this is a gallery space, this is not for snapping away with your digital camera, or your iphone, so don’t try to do it. I could see from the onset that I was going to have some trouble with this one too. My uptown commute, by foot, had brought me to a spot (the MAD in fact) where I was a little bit warmer than usual, and with my tshirt starting hang off of me I tried to plead my case with the good looking girls behind the reception counter. They would have none of it (rightfully so) and no matter how I tried, it did not look good for me getting my own images here.

Well, eventually they put me in touch with their Chief Marketing Officer, or something to that effect so as to get rid of me, but I produced the proper accreditation insuring that I was indeed who I said I was (no one in particular) and was finally allowed to snap a few photographs. Being as thought I wasn’t there “within the required media time” or the day when the media were allow to take photos, it caused quite a stir, and a couple others were dissuade from using their camera phones and digitals even when they produced a “well, what about him” whining, all the while pointing at me. Turns out I had the Golden Hallpass or however that goes…

The bikes there are nothing that we haven’t seen before. And I do not mean for that to come across in a rude way either. Quite literally I have seen these bicycles before. I have seen Richard Sachs Cyclocross Bikes, I have seen Sacha White’s little trike, I have even seen a few of Mike Flannigan’s A.N.T. bikes too. And Jeff Jones? Love that guy.

But there were two things that I had not seen that struck me about this show. One, I had not seen these bicycles in such an elegant space. And two, the ephemera that they had collected around each builder was something that exhibited a pretty special demeanor. But maybe that has something to do with number one.

It probably goes without saying that the best environment to view these bicycles is their natural state. The state that finds them on open roads or muddy cyclocross courses. That finds the Jones bikes ripping through the Oregon forests doing endo’s for only the trees to see. Cruising along a boulevard with a bottle of wine strapped into the basket up front, these are the places that bicycles should be viewed. But in each of those cases they are only seen individually and if we saw all of these together at the same time out in the wild it would seem a little gratuitous and also maybe a little grotesque. (Is not a Sachs bike made for Ripping through the mud, not strapping wine to the front?) But what the Museum does is take them out of their element and give them context next to each other.

So, that you are able to look at them a whole. Wander through the collection and see how they inspire you, but at the same time, see how they have inspired each other. We sometimes forget that that here in the states this form of art is relatively new and that there is a good chance, no matter what they’re proximity to each other they are still aware of each other. And once again, this space prevails.

The long display at the end of the hall was where I spent the most time. Even after I had put away my camera and had been left alone, I still spent the majority of the time slowing moving down the display case and looking at the what was displayed there. All of the New Yorker covers that were on the wall (there should be a new one to add to Mr. Sachs collection with this months cover) excited me simply because I had heard Richard talk about this collection before when we met him at his space in Connecticut. And to see early photos of him racing with a crazy head of hair next to a stack of his now trademark red welding glasses, well, that is the kind of stuff that I came to see…

By: Jeremy Dunn Thursday July 29, 2010

Two weeks ago I was lucky enough to get to spend the week in New York City. Wow, what a place, that city. A worthy adversary for sure. And now that we are on the subject, I think that it is safe to say that I know why people call it ‘the City.’ It used to piss me off when people from NYC would say that, referring to the place that they call home ‘the City.’ It just sounds so uppity and fucking annoying if I am allowed to speak plainly. And I am.

But when you spend a little time there you start to realize why it has earned its moniker. It has something to do with the people on top of people, but also the accesibilty of everything. The City itself defines exactly what it means to be a city, and then takes it to such an extreme that you cannot help but succumb to it. At least I did.

I found myself traipsing around the Lower East Side at night, nodding to the sentry’s behind the newsstands, talking to loud into my phone and crossing the street whenever I damn well please. Same with being on the bike. If there is a way that I could bring Piers North out here to give a little lesson to…well, all of Portland, I would. And his lesson would be this “How to Ride your Bicycle in an Urban Environment.” On one 20 block ride he nearly crashed into four old ladies, almost tipped over a fruit stand, and ran 32 red lights. It must be noted that not one of the old ladies even blinked as they avoided his spinning front wheel. I was in heaven while this all happened. Not even joking. I miss the days that aggressive city cycling was the norm.

And what was I doing when I was riding through that sweaty city? Commuting to work of course.

The Cycle Club is well on its way to Cycle Club infamy, as far as those things go.

And it has everything to do with the man in charge. I do not mean Brett Cleaver, I mean the man really in charge. If you do not know who Mike Spriggs is, you best familiarize yourself. Aside from Gage & Desoto (I always forget to ask where the name comes from) and being the head honcho over at the Club, he is also a) a really nice guy and b) a fierce collector of bicycle books. And aside aside from that he can be seen above furiously writing out the next days TdF Stage on the Leaderboard. And that was before he went home and wrote out a recap of that days stage (the yellow clipboard below the chalkboard).

No shit? – You’re saying that to yourself right now aren’t you? You did not know that about Mike. Well, now you do. The best part about this though, if you live in ‘the City’ is that Mike has made his library available for you to peruse. Well, he has made them available to you, and he has also stocked them with some of the better Cycling Publications out there, but also that have ever existed.

There is the current stock of pubs. Yeah, got it Alberto, you’re saying Two with your hands there. But, really, if you had wanted to be ominous for PRO Cycling there, you would have held up “tres” fingers for us to see. (Tres is three in Mexican in case anyone is keeping track). But really the point of all this buildup is to get to the one that I have already shown you. It is this one right above, with Greg Lemond in the Stars and Strips (I like ‘Strips’ better because in England that is what they sometimes call Soccer Uniforms – Strips, and once a very beautiful, very English girl told me that she liked my Strip – it got weird because I thought she said “I’d like you to Strip” but alas, not all of them work out as planned – except that one did.) Aaaanyway…

No idea really as to why it is called “Eddy Merckx The Fabulous World Of Cycling” other than the fact that he wrote the intro. But I would venture a guess that if we had to call all of Cycling – Eddy Merckx, like, if he owned it, well, I guess I would be ok with that. “No Argue” he would say after that, and no one would.

The book itself is fuuuucking amazing though. I had the extreme pleasure of sitting with the author of the book Typography for the People (peep it in the photo where Mike is writing furiously – and then go buy it cause its awesome and comes with free fonts) and it is safe to say that we both went apeshit over the whole thing. The kits that everyone is wearing, every photo with Lemond and his neatly feathered hair, and some of the sponsors that were a part of the sport were mindblowingly awesome as well.

For a book about cycling, the were sure into the gore of the sport. Although, I guess, who isn’t? The layout of the book is fantastic. The commentary alone is worth trying to find the book, I only glanced at a few of the descriptions, but they are all written with a strange air to them… take this one for example..

“In any case Kuiper’s Victory deserves our full respect.” Oh yeah? Well then why did you spend the lines before it talking about someone who had the potential to win, but did not? I find that to be an odd remark.

Just to have a visual photo album of the ’83’s races makes the book stand out on its own. The only thing better would be to have it signed by everyone involved, like a sort of yearbook.
“Hey Greg Sweet Race at Worlds! You win. Ps – Quit trying to use those dorky handlebars, they’re never going to get you anywhere” – Prof.

“Yo Greggy. Time to get a cool nickname eh? Say hi to the ladies for me…
j/k see you in Colorado. Oh yeah, did you see that photo of me when I won Fleche? So badass!!” – Bernard “the Badger” Hinault

In any case, I am sure that we could go on and on with that one. Thanks goes out to Mike for sharing his beloved Cycling Library with everyone. Stop over and say hi and he would love to talk to you about Cycling. Or Bikes. Or Books. Or Babes (what? it starts with a “B”). But, my question for you – dear readers – is who the hell is this?

By: Jeremy Dunn Wednesday July 28, 2010

It is official. That just happened. Garrett Chow and total MASH-er just emailed me to let me know that this bad boy just dropped. Or is about to drop, or however the hips and hops happen, this is it. I showed this to my roommate Steven Hunter and it is possible that he lost his mind a little bit. Maybe not officially, or outwardly, but he definitely wanted to. And I can just about hear Rich Bravo and Whit Yost clamoring for their credit cards on this one.

Artoo from Hypebeast covered it too.

Speaking of Rich Bravo apparently this is what happens when you forget your new (and I might add custom colourway-ed) Oakley’s at his apartment in Chelsea. This gives Rich the full on right to literally molest my glasses though different parts of that tiny island that we like to call Manhattan. And I have to say, if there is one way to do it, it is this… However, I am not going to lie, I like you and all Rich, but you could not have gotten ANY cute girls to model them? Or homeless? I mean, come on man, take it to the extreme. Although, just the simple fact that you got them that close to the flowing mane of that hairdresser (yours??) gives you a few much needed style points.

Now, Um, can I get those back?

The thing to note is that Bravo dressed appropriately (as always) in an Embrocation Luchador T-shirt. Which, always makes me happy. Now, if only I could get him to model the DOPE one, those could also start flying off the proverbial shelves. I promise, it is not a comment on cycling. Or is it? The other thing that I really liked about Rich’s exploits with eyewear was that he kept on calling them the “Wayward Lenses.” Now if that is not someone who studied ‘the Classics’ then I do not know what defines these people…

And Spriggs. He got Mike Spriggs and Andrew Crooks in on it. Bastards!

By: Jeremy Dunn Friday July 23, 2010

I know it is Friday, and I know that it is the last Friday before the end of the TdF. And while the race may already be decided, it also might not. What I am hoping is that Schleck pulls out some newfangled contraption – not a motor for his downtube we already have those – some kind of special handlebars or something that offer his body a more forward – (ie futuristic looking) position on the bicycle (I know, I get it, they would have to be really space age to make that happen) and he wins the Tour by narrowly beating Contador due to his tactical advantage in the Time Trial. But, then again, that could probably never happen.

I hope you have some time on your hands.

It is wonderful to be able to watch the climbing stages over and over. This is not really something that I can always do, but I like to. Today, I sneak glances at the TV and Kolobnev as he goes for yet another of the KOM sprints. This is playing for the third time straight. Glad no one minds.

Andy Schleck too is a marvel to watch. Contador makes me jealous. Snakehips. Whatever, who cares, he looks unique, fluid, sleek but in his own curious way. And these are the people that I channel when I climb, knowing full well that I probably look like an awkward bar room brawling (complete with look cleats and carbon soles) version of these two. Heavier sure, but also muscling the bike around like I am trying to make it do my bidding instead of the perfect union that is either of those two. Ah well, it still hurts the same either way.

Speaking of climbing, I had the chance to ride with KV the other day. Turns out we did a little bit of climbing, for most of it I was again staring at the ground whirring away beneath my tires. New ones in fact, but that is besides that point. Kyle is one of these “editors” one of these guys who sits behind a computer screen, or bank of computer screens, all day and gets to just play around with videos. Or at least that is how I imagine his life to be. Dark and filled with cheetoes. Keyboards smudged with greasy orange paw prints. In truth I am sure that it is something a bit more sterile than that. And KV does not ride his bike like he eats a ton of Cheetoes.

The reason that we were talking about editing though is because one of the last pieces that KV edited is one that many of you have been seeing for the past…oh say 18 days or so…

Nike Lance Armstrong commercial: ‘Engine’ from Anthony McLean on Vimeo.

My question for him was about the second move, where the camera pans back over the mountains and why that move was necessary. He said to help establish the fact that the voices were solely surrounding Mr. Armstrong and not a product of the environment. Makes total sense to me, but what he told me next was what made the whole thing ridiculous and funny. Apparently people who had watched the video online had written in to tell them (Nike and W + K in this case?) that the audio keeps cutting out throughout the film. And this is where KV reached out and started smacking his own helmet and saying “It’s the voices in his head, it’s the voices in his head.” See how they come back when the camera shifts back….nevermind.

What I also find interesting is the “Una Mas” commercial that has been airing directly after (or was it before) the Armstrong ad – and they aren’t Nike Ads anymore – they’re Armstrong ads. I have to say (no offense KV) that if I had to choose one over the other it would have to be the Specialized ad. Two reasons for this. Well, ok maybe more than two.

1) lighter. this evokes a spirit that LA has been missing for quite some time now
2) lighter. as in color and brightness. tone, if you will. quit being so fucking dour Lance. you did this to yourself, this was your choosing.
3) the music
4) we all know that he has voices in his head.
5) if I woke up from a crazy dream, naked in front of a crowd of people and it was on a Specialized Roubaix, or whatever Contador is riding now Spz-A36 or something, in Astana Blue, I would be less embarrassed than if I was riding a Trek Whatevs 940. Fer realz.
6) I like that ‘Berto is doing hill repeats – fast – instead of ambling along looking back on his career and “all the pressure to do this” and “the people wanting me to do that.” Heard It. Contador has made it all about the best part. Riding his bike.

I feel like a dick now. Sorry KV, your work is amazing.

————————————————————————————————
Cycling Inquisition with an amazing story that includes but is not limited to: Colombia, drug trafficking, murder, infidelity, and Cycling. There is a video at the bottom of this post that I think you should check out. It is of JV showing off his hotel room and offers amazing insight into that man that we know and love. Family man? Maybe, check out his sleeping shirt and photos of his family. Also, a man of discerning tastes? Well, I do not blame you Jen’s. I think that those synthetic feeling off color blankets are weird too…

Spriggs and I were talking about him all last week at the Cycle Club. Hoping for glimpses of him in post race interviews, or, more importantly, at the front of the peloton crushing peoples ever-loving spirits. Or, conversely taking a kid’s bicycle out for a joyride. The man will just not back down, and no matter what he said about stage 3, he still wins in my mind. Please do not retire my man. We need you.

Need proof? Jens Voigt? (please click that link). (pretty please). Damn, he has a sense of humor as well. What more can you want?

Honestly, let us get back to Spriggsy and I? Our JuJu must be taking some serious hold. Because in all probability it was just that type of talk that got us a mention near the bottom of that NYTimes post. Ok, not really us, but you know what I mean, that is our boy Graeme killing it on the Tourmalet. And just like that the revelations just keep coming.

One merry prankster in the comments sections offers insight into Voigt.
Joke from the Seventies:
“Why do cycling shoes have all those holes in them? To let the blood run out.”
-brought to you by Harry from Boston.

Now enjoy this:

By: Jeremy Dunn Saturday July 17, 2010

Joe Staples wrote a nice little piece the other day about lying to yourself.- I was featured in the post, but I think that it should be noted that it is solely because I ride with him all the time, not because I have any bearing on the actual outcome. He could trash me in a second. Most of these people that we ride with could. Only thing is – I was not wearing kneewarmers – psshh – who wears knee warmers?

But the truth of the matter is that he got me thinking about the ways that I lie to myself. And, at this point I will only tell you the cycling ones. If we were to go into the others things could get what you might call ‘a little messy.’ And then I am sure that I would start lying to you, which would be bad, or worse than just lying to myself.

I do not know if what I do would be considered lying because I am fully aware of it when it is happening and am also fully aware when it is over. What happens is that I start to slip, at least visually, and when the slipping starts, it is very, very difficult to stop. And I plead with myself (which is where the lying might factor in) but it is the whole procession of slipping that really is the point.

Most of us when riding get very focused on what is directly in front of us. Possibly not Jens Voigt his focus probably rests somewhere on the top of Pain Mountain, trust me you will never see it, this mountain, because it is in a far off land somewhere. Only he and a few others can see it. Bruce Lee probably saw it. Myself? I tend to focus directly on what is front of me.

Visual Slipping

Barring any real ailments I feel to be in pretty good health at the moment. The big toenail of my right foot fell off recently for no real apparent reason. But, other than that I feel to be the picture of perfect health — except for the fact that I am blind as a bat. I know that everyone says this at some point, especially if they wear glasses, which I do, but seriously I am fucking blind.

For example: I saw some old friends recently. These old friends have not been seen by me in quite some time, and during our time apart I purchased new glasses. This was their response to these glasses; “New glasses eh? I do not remember your glasses making your eyes look all bulgy and buglike the last time I saw you in them. Are they getting thicker?” Thanks guys, just for putting it out there, and yes they are.

For example2: If I were to lose one of my contacts in a race. I would stop and get off my bike. It really would be dangerous for me to be riding blind as a bat.

But the point of that is this: My slipping happens visually.

A person much wiser than myself once taught me a visual trick to help me close the distance between myself and another rider in front of me. He had noticed that I was letting too great a gap open and when he mentioned it to me, for one I did not know what he was talking about, and for two I said “well, why would I want to get that close to another cyclist, I might hit his rear wheel and take us both out.” (This happened one time and it was not pretty.)

So, being a much smarter cyclist than myself he passed along a little knowledge. “Look straight through the bike ahead of you and focus on their front hub.” I tried and it worked extremely well. “You’ll know what they are doing [by the movement of their front wheel] and instinctively move with them, and at the same time, you will be aware of the space between both of your bicycles.”

It was easy, made sense and works every time. Until you start slipping.

If it happens quick, the slip, your vision will go blurry (you’ll wonder if a contact fell out, like me) and you will quickly realize that you have exerted yourself a little too much and plain lost the wheel in front of you. Commence heavy breathing and stamping on the pedals. This method is a bit preferred only because it feels like an accident and any gap you have created can, hopefully, be quickly eliminated.

The slow ones are the ones to watch out for because by the time you realize they have happened, it could be over.

Phase One:
First my vision goes from the front hub to the bottom bracket. This seems ok to me because there is more visible motion happening in this area. The cranks are spinning effortlessly, smoothly in their little press-fit shell (little joke). This can also be an area of wonderment because this is where all the power from the legs is being transformed into forward motion. Even if it does mean I have slipped a little bit – and I am not worried about it.

Phase Two:
When you have gone from the bottom bracket to the read hub, then it is time to start worrying. Take note of what is happening (you are going backward) and start to work to counteract what is happening. I am slipping, ever so slightly off the wheel of whomever is in front of me. Immediately following this revelation, my sight will go to the very back of their back tire. Now, is time to be worried.

Phase Three:
Once I have exhausted the bike in front of me, it is time to move onto your own. Visual Slippage has now taken its toll and what you are left with, fortunately or unfortunately is your own bicycle. The machine underneath you. The problem here, well now you do not have a wheel to follow. Now you are left to your own devices. And if you do not have the mental fortitude of Jens (which unfortunately I do not) Well, then, I hope at least you are having fun.

It is possible to counteract the slip however. All it takes is the mental strength to reverse the process. Quite literally force yourself to look from the rear tire to the rear hub. Punch your eyeballs from the rear hub back up to the bottom bracket. Watch the spinning. And then when you have settled back into the rhythms that have kept you there in the first place. Move your eyes a bit further up to the front hub. Voila. Counteracted.

And while easier said than done, it is something to think about.

Today I slipped, fell off. Clawed my way back on. Slipped again, scratched the inside of my soul until it was raw, and then just decided to be content with how my knees looked bobbing on their own.

Then I was kindly berated for letting this side of things slip too. But it is definitely good to be out and about…

By: Jeremy Dunn Friday July 9, 2010

Union Foundry T-0001 Roto-Fix Tool from Paper Fortress on Vimeo.

This Union Foundry stuff is so cool. I’m not going to lie.

I feel really honored that they decided to include me in their pre-release. Please do not let the postmaster gods ever think I’m anything but stoked about everything. But, the truthiness of the matter is this: I do not have a track bike at the moment…therefor I do not know if I can be the best judge of this product.

Fear not, I have indeed found the perfect testing grounds for this new tool.

I think that I have figured a way to put is warp speed like precision to work. (No one actually says “warp speed like precision.” Promise, just made that up.) Check out the video, which our pal Stebs made and then we are going to get back on this in a minute.

In the meantime, Tyler over at Independent Fabrication has a little bit more for you.

By: Jeremy Dunn Tuesday July 6, 2010

Notes on the Tour thus far:

Ouch. Ow.

“That’s just bike racing, get on with it.” -M. Cavendish

I like that there is a thing called the “Shack Tracker” how clever. Really? I would however like it more if the symbol that popped up was a metal detector. Just for fun.

The first two ads after each break are about Lance (Michelob and Nissan Leaf) and then the third one starts “Can Lance do it again…” or some shit like that. Seems to be a trend here.

J-you-are (Jaguar)

If Julian Dean has to carry that team. Something tells me Julian Dean will carry that team. Otherwise he won’t.

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July

We used to joke in bike shops that the two reasons why July is notoriously the slowest month of the year, in terms of sales, was that everyone was either watching the Tour or out riding their bikes because they had just been watching the tour. The joke here being that no one would watch anything, ever, relating to bike racing all year, and then the Tour comes along and suddenly everyone and their brother is glued to the set. Then, as soon as the stage and recap is over they are out on their Cervelo P34’s or their Trek MADone bicycles racing to Lexington and back, or tearing through downtown Milwaukee to make it over to the bike path along Lake Michigan.

I am not an early riser.

This will come as no surprise to anyone that has spent any amount of time with me. I want to be, I try to be, but no matter how you slice it, I do not like to get up in the morning. I know for a fact that many, many, many of you will be up in the early morning hours of the day enjoying coffee, eating your breakfast and watching what unfolds in the Tour de France tomorrow. However, the only thing in those last three mentioned that can get me close to getting out of bed is the thought of coffee. So, until that happens I will be burrowed under the covers hoping to eschew any sort of stray light that can and will get through to pierce my eyes and wake me from wherever I may have drifted off to. Which is where I would rather be.

The benefit of having the Tour on in the morning is that your friends will not want to ride until later in the afternoon (9am instead of 7am in most cases) and one can be left in peace. The secondary benefit of the rides being later and the tour being on is that we now have something to talk about rather than the usual which goes dog, kids, wives/girlfriends (in that order). The tertiary benefit of this is that I would rather hear their take on what happens on the day first – seriously – I do not care if you “Spoiler Alert” me all damn day – I just want you to tell me who won. And in this fashion I can build up all the nasty rumors (CAV totes hates Fair-uh) and all the ugly truths (Schlecks do not do this to me) and then go and check them out for myself with the intense-o moments quietly disposed of.

But really, the truth of the matter is that these people, my friends, as they watch the Tour they are filled with this hope (however false) that they will ride in a manner similar to those brightly painted gladiators that they have just viewed. So, then they come out of their hiding places, eyes all squinty at the sun, and we ride. And in July, it seems, we ride harder than usual.

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More Small Publications

Because of all this talk about small publications I keep thinking back to this one that Rich Bravo gave me on my last visit to NYC. Only problem was that I could not decide which was the best background to present it with. As you can see, I decided on the little gravely bits.

The book is small by anyone’s standards, which means it is about “yay” big. I held up my hands to show you the actual size, but I am sure you cannot see that at this point. The book is shot and designed by Lucie E. Kim and is part of the MyORB collective of goodness. You can see more photos that are similar to my photos there.

The book is a great look at Keirin racing as an introduction and the format makes the book accessible in a way that handheld paper objects should be. You want to stuff this one in your pocket and take it with you. Here is an idea. Make something like this with blank pages in between the photos? Like a cross between a notebook/journal/love letter to the sport?

Not that you should write over these photos, I do not condone that type of behavior (I did have someone tell me at the 4th of July party I went to that he ‘circled up’ volume5 so that he could show me all my mistakes at some point). Which, at first struck me as an odd thing to do, and possibly made me a bit angry (not so much as when people roll it up and try to stuff it in things though) but then when I put down the whiskey it made a bunch more sense, because what a better way to illustrate than with my own magazine?

I am enamored with the size of this book, sure, but also the design elements get me going as well. I like the a lot of the photos have been blocked in this strange way that makes you feel like you are not seeing the whole picture, but still gives you enough information to know what is going on. The lines and patterns that make up not only the track itself, but also the entire stadium also lend itself to visually making this velodrome setup feel a bit alien, at the very least foreign. Which I guess makes a lot of sense.

Their website is not the only place to get this book. Bravo told me he picked it up when he went to visit this new shop Adeline Adeline (same one Quirk raved about a while back in What’s New). I like that they are carrying alternative publications like the one above and plan on visiting them when I head out to the Cycle Club in the coming weeks. This month is going to be all about publications, I promise.

Here is one last shot to leave you with. This is something that we made over the winter but never fully utilized. Until now that is. July is also the month to send Postcards apparently? And since they play off of one of my favorite things in the world – Mail!!- they cannot be all bad right?

We made four different postcards. There are two cross tyres and two road tyres. If my memory is serving me correctly the one you see here is from the Saxo-Bank team before the start of Paris Roubaix last year. The other road one is also from that collection, and then there are two cross ones as well.

By: Jeremy Dunn Thursday July 1, 2010

Tabor tonight was fun. Really fun, even though it hurt. Maybe especially because it hurt.

Anyway, I found this video whilst digging back through Backyard Blam tonight. I really do love this blog and that outlook of its creator – Amanda. Her humor seriously warms my heart in the nerdiest of nerdy ways. Plus, she recently gifted me not only a matching set of glasses (but in brown) but also a Backyard Blam T-shirt that I am thinking you might be seeing soon (on me, and not anywhere else – I choose to believe that this shirt is so rare as to be considered a “one off.”) So, keep your eyes peeled for that one.

I want this. At first I did not. I poo pooed it. I am not going to lie to you. But, the more I think about it. The more I think it has something to do with the model and the legwarmers and all the dark on the lower half. Just being honest here. But, I’ve changed my mind and now I want it. It looks hot (as in Super Cool) and now I want one. Curses. And I cannot wait to see the inclusion of the Tourmalet back into the TDF this year. Schlecks Schlecks! You can do it. I think this also has something to do with why I am all of a sudden psyched about this jersey.

The other thing that I want. Since we are on the subject of clothing and wanting at the moment — Is something from Howies. Anything will do really when it comes down to it. They just do their clothing so well. It is like a hip, functional Patagonia. But better looking. However, with that being said, word on the street (and I have an inside man everywhere) is that the fall Patagonia line is going to blow your crampons right off. Just sayin.

The other reason I am into Howies these days is (not because I heard two really nice stories about their company and how they treat people) but because they produce such great printed materials. When I was lingering around Mr. Strickland’s office I picked up one of their little mini-catalog’s to thumb through, turns out it was just a little side project book about all of the cool spots that they had been whilst shooting their actual catalog. Why do more companies not do stuff like this? This is what the people (ie – me) want to see. Have a look see.

I got thinking about this one again because of the Embrocation 2.5 that came up the other day. I like these small little nuggets. Little awesome packets of the joy that it took to produce them. I think that there might be a 6.5 in the future. Or something to that effect.